24 quotes found
“The tune was sad, as the best of Ireland was, melancholy and lovely as a lover's tears.”
“World is suddener than we fancy it.”
“Take that rage, put it on a page, take the page to the stage, blow the roof off the place.”
“When I come out on the road of a morning, when I have had a night's sleep and perhaps a breakfast, and the sun lights a hill on the distance, a hill I know I shall walk across an hour or two thence...”
“We had found nothing, and had been lost several times already in one morning, so this was shaping up into a top travel experience.”
“The best thing about flying first class....was that you could be as nutty as a fruitcake and were still treated like the Queen of Sheba.”
“And lucky indeed is the writer who has grown up in Ireland, for the English spoken there is so amusing and musical. (How to Write with Style. Essay, 1985)”
“That guy in the corner. Never tells the truth, as a matter of principle. Why answer a question, he says, if you can tell a good story instead?”
“Though the last glimpse of Erin with sorrow I see,Yet wherever thou art shall seem Erin to me;In exile thy bosom shall still be my home,And thine eyes make my climate wherever we roam.”
“No revolutionary movement is complete without its poetical expression.”
“Despite an icy northeast wind huffing across the bay I sneak out after dark, after my mother falls asleep clutching her leather Bible, and I hike up the rutted road to the frosted meadow to stand i...”
“Irish improves a poet.”
“The sea, the snotgreen sea, the scrotumtightening sea.”
“Grey morning dulled the bay. Banks of clouds, Howth just one more bank, rolled to sea, where other Howths grumbled to greet them. Swollen spumeless tide. Heads that bobbed like floating gulls and g...”
“She noticed then that Conor was watching her.'Are you going for a swim?' he asked her.'In a while. Why don't you go down and check if it's warm enough?''And if it's not warm enough?''We'll still go...”
“In Northern Ireland, helicopters are not usually used to promote poetry.”
“When Erin first rose from the dark-swelling flood God blessed the green island he saw it was good. The Emerald of Europe it sparkled and shone In the ring of this world the most precious stone.”
“Whether on the scaffold high. Or on the battle-field we die Oh what matter when for Erin dear we fall.”
